Routines

Posted by: , May 24, 2010 in 10:34 am


outnumbered30 RoutinesI have a routine in the morning. Following this routine works for me. It makes me happy.

It goes something like this…

I wake up at 6:00am and snooze for 10 minutes. This is when my wife and I get to spend time together. We are sleeping but we spend time together nonetheless.

At 6:09 my Dream Machine scares the living shit out of me and I scurry out of bed like a rodent.

I pee sitting down because I am part woman.

I put on my smelly shorts and my socks from yesterday (Because I care about the environment) and walk downstairs.

I make myself a glass of strawberry Muscle Milk Light because I think it will help me get bigger muscles. It pretty much just gives me Diarrhea.

I walk into my home gym and turn on the local news. I don’t care about the news but the anchor woman is MILFY.

Depending on the day, I either run 3 miles or lift weights. Either way, I look like a douche because I am hairy and never get bigger, stronger or faster. I feel it is a waste of time but if I don’t exercise, I tend to sweat a lot through out the day. I am not sure there is any correlation but my scientific hypothesis would be that it gets the sweat out and it takes about a day to make more sweat.

After I exercise, I eat 3 pills that I buy at GNC because I think they will give me bigger muscles. More diarrhea.

I sweat all over the floor.

I wake up my kids by turning on the lights and blasting their clock radios.

They hate this but continue sleeping to spite me.

I walk upstairs.

I get undressed and make a doodie.

I look at my fat hairy stomach while sitting on the potty and stew with resentment because the exercise doesn’t seem to be working. I hate being hairy.

I shower for 15 minutes. First I wash my hair with Axe shampoo and wonder if all of those girls in the commercials with attack me when I leave the house because I smell so great. They never do.
Then I wash my chest. It is hairy.

Then I wash my arms. Then my under arms.

Then I wash my privates and my butt. When I wash my butt it makes that funny swooshing noise. That always makes me laugh and my wife says, “I hear you washing your butt.” This makes me laugh again. We have a very open relationship.

If I have time, I wash my legs and my feet.

I get out of the shower and put on my contact lenses. If it is raining, I wear my glasses.

Then I put on my Axe deodorant and wonder if all of those girls in the commercials with attack me when I leave the house because I smell so great. They never do.

I spray on one of 4 different colognes because men wear cologne. I smell like my deceased grandpa. I am sentimental like that.

I get dressed. I always wear sneakers and I like fitted t-shirts. If you wear small shirts your muscles look bigger.

I then go downstairs and wake up my children for a second time. I tell them they will get a treat if they get dressed themselves. In order to get the treat they must also brush their teeth.

I go back upstairs and poop for a second time.

My daughters wait for me outside of the bathroom door. They try to scare me but I hear them talking about trying to scare me. They are not good at this. When I come out of the bathroom they scream boo. I make pretend I am scared but it is starting to get annoying. I hope they grow out of this soon.

I ask if they brushed their teeth and they say they have. I bend down to smell their mouths and their breath smells like garbage but I have to trust them.

We pile out of the house. They race to the car and fight over who wins. They have terrible sportsmanship. I am just happy they don’t fall. That would take too much time and I don’t know where the nearest hospital is. I must Google this.

We get into the car and listen to the Disney Channel. The music is awful. It makes me want to punch Micky Mouse in the testicles but I am not sure if he even has testicles. I would assume he does. Mini Mouse is still dating him. I then wonder if Mickey Mouse and Mini Mouse actually have intercourse. I must Google this.

I drop off my older daughter. She makes me hang her upside down in front of her friends. I am the cool Dad.

I drop off my younger daughter. We race to the door. I let her win. This makes me angry. I know I am faster than her. I should beat her one day just to teach her good sportsmanship. Life is hard and full of disappointment. She needs to learn this. I will start by beating her in a running race tomorrow. I will stretch before the race. It’s important to be limber before a running race.

I walk out of her school and look back into the window. She likes this. I wave to get her attention and all of the kids gather around the window. I then make pretend I am walking down the stairs. Then I make pretend I am taking the elevator. Then I make pretend I am using the escalator. They laugh hysterically. I am the funny Dad.

Example:

I then walk to Starbucks. The barista knows me. I go there every day. He has my Venti, iced decaf, black coffee waiting for me. This is my favorite part of the day.

But today I decided to stray from my routine.

As I step away from the counter with my coffee, something hits me.

I want a bagel with butter. I have never done this.

I ask him for one.

I walk away from the counter and add the usual 2 packets of Splenda to my coffee.

I walk back to the counter and he hands me my bagel with butter in a paper bag.

I wish him a well weekend.

I walk to my car and get inside.

I am early for my train so I take out my bagel with butter.

There is no butter on the bagel. There are 3 squares of butter in the bag. They are cold and hard. There is no knife.

I panic.

I have to butter my own bagel? This is bullshit.

I put the bagel on my lap and open the butter packs. I try to spread the butter with my finger. It is too cold. I try to force it and the bagel breaks in my lap. I get butter on my shorts. I am covered in crumbs. I arrange the 3 squares of butter on the bagel. I close the ripped bagel. My car is a mess. I am a mess.

A man should NEVER have to butter his own bagel with his finger.

I should never have strayed from my routine.

outnumbered


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